Back To Black
by PullMeLikeI'mYourZiper
Summary: TemarixShikamaru. What will Temari do when Shikamaru leaves her? She'll see there's only one more option left: find a perfect ending to her perfect crushed world.


**Title:** Back To Black

**Pairing:** TemarixShikamaru.

**Warnings:** AU, use of drugs, alcoholism, masturbation, angst, crime, characters death, reference of promiscuity, a bit of swearing and I think that's pretty much it.

**Summary:** TemarixShikamaru. What will Temari do when Shikamaru leaves her? She'll see there's only one more option left: find a perfect ending to her perfect crushed world.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own in any shape, form or colour Naruto or anything related to it besides this piece of fanfiction, which does not give me any profits.

**A/N:** Yeah, my first fanfic in months!

I must thank enormously to Archsage Soren for being my beta when he had so much to do and this wasn't even his area of work. I also thank my uke-chan for encouraging me to continue and post this fic here.

This fic, as you can see by the title, it's inspired by Amy Winehouse's song "Back To Black". I don't know, I just listened to it and the idea popped into my head and when an idea gets in my head, the pairings are so defined I don't see any other character to be in the fic besides the ones my mind has already picked. So, it had to be Temari and Shikamaru, even though Shikamaru is a bit OOC, though I don't think this ruins the fic.

Well, hope you enjoy it!

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The stage was so bright it hurt her eyes. She was so doped that the public was like a strange kaleidoscope and even so, in the end of that strange show of shapes, he would always make a perfect figure, without any distortion, even so, in that strange show in front of her narrowed eyes, he was all she could see.

She listened far away a familiar beat. The music started and in front of her was an audience looking forward to listen to her beautiful voice, but once again, all she could see, right in the nearest table, was that fucking bastard and also, by destiny's irony, the man of her life… or at least she thought and convinced herself so. She took the microphone and started to sing. Those times were no longer time of glory, she no longer felt proud of herself, of her voice, of her songs, of her delighted audience. She only felt a darker hole opening beneath her. She started to walk through the stage, swaying her hips to the beat of the old songs, so used to the same choreography that now she did it without thinking.

She could only think of how her end was coming slowly ever since he dumped her.

She had missed already two shows on a month, but it was all for him. She thought he understood her reasons, or even if didn't, he would always stay by her side. That was until, while sniffing the new drug he got her, she heard giggles and moans coming outside their door. The door opened, making her stand up to recognize the strangers intruding her house.

"F-Fuck! Temari, what the hell are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be on a show?" that voice made her heart jump. She thought her eyes and ears could only be tricking her, she was so doped. She leaned to caress his face, feeling him jerk back. She looked to the sticky lipstick on her fingers. There was no illusion.

"Who is she? Shikamaru, tell me now who she is!" suddenly her knees were wobbling and she was falling on her knees.

"Who the heck do you think you are, talking to me like that?" he snorted. "You freaking drug addict woman! Look at the mess at the table from your sniffing? Was that why you missed your show?" there was not even a concerned tone in his voice, only disgust.

"No! I-I…" her words started to fail, a pressure was forming on her throat, choking her. "Today was our anniversary…" she started to sob."W-why, Shikamaru? Why?"

"Hn. Did you really think I loved you? I was only after the money you earned from your career to endure my expenses and the drug I sell. I expected the drug to make you more energetic to your shows, not for you to miss them. You're so weak you're totally hooked. Now you're no use. I knew I would have to dump you soon. You were pretty once, now it's all garbage." he spited on her face and then turned away, leaving her crushed soul scattered on the floor along that night.

The next day, the sun came through the window hitting precisely her atrophied eyes. They were swollen red, but she couldn't cry anymore. She wouldn't cry anymore, she would go out with her head high, because in her messed up mind, if she reunited effort to come back to show business again, he would come back to her. As soon as she shone in stage again. But until then she would have to go on without her man.

She continued with her shows in her lousy hope and continued to see him with other women, fact that in her head made no sense, or it was her fault. It had to be, she just had to work harder. He seemed to have forgotten all about them, no expression of recognition was made when passed by her, like they never met before. Even so believing, her faith on them eventually started to fade. Meanwhile she deepened in her own shit instead of coming out of it. Once again she returned to her drugs, using the pleasurable moments it gave her, to revive in her skin their time together.

In her dreams she came back to the night her life began to fade, feeling unconsciously everything again. The feeling of his spit on her face, of being used, of her life collapsing with his words, of death slowly crawling under the wooden floor to "their" bed. She would wake up at the part he left the house with the other woman. It seemed like dying a little bit more every night. Sweat often moistened the sheets around her body, heaving on her chest and lungs and making her remember the dream, tearing apart another cell of her brain.

After the dream she stayed the rest of the night awake, smiling alone in the dark while remembering their time together. Touching every corner of the house made her feel like touching him, breathing in the clothes he left behind and his favorite sheet made her feel like breathing him. Then she chose a spot where he used to be and lean on it sniffing some cocaine. While in ecstasy, she took off her clothes and pleasured herself while thinking of him. Her moans silencing the stray dogs underneath her window while she thrusted in herself thinking of her fingers as his big dick, pinching her nipples and actually feeling the sensation of his fingers climbing up to her epidermis, inciting goose bumps on her whole form and once she shuddered from her orgasm, she licked her fingers thinking of his sperm.

She stayed silent on the floor after it. Whispering "I love you" to an empty wall of a lifeless house, holding tears back and asking herself why her devotion wasn't enough. She had even kept the last pack of cocaine he sold her. She held on to it sometimes, remembering when they smoked in the living room, having a good talk and a good laugh after good sex. He loved a good cigarette while her thing was more heavy, like a joint. Her life was so absorbed in her obsession for him, even if she tried, she wouldn't be able to escape. She would be hitting against an invisible wall if she tried to forget him or if she tried to pursue him, but still she forced a new way.

She started to have one night stands with men that looked like him to ease her mind. She was beginning to look even more sloppy by every performance on stage, where after the shows she would sniff a good quantity of cocaine to keep herself together to find another man like Shikamaru to sleep with. Her reputation of slut was rising within the society of men in the bars and dark alleys she passed by during the night.

Her thoughts focused on the bright stage in front of her again. There he was in the first row of tables with another woman snaking her arms and legs around him. She saw his provocative manner of showing up, his try to make her more insane with his presence shitting on her as a real proof of love and affection, as in he didn't forgot her or there was still a reminiscence of any good feelings towards her. She saw the woman beside him as an attempt of making her jealous and an attempt of trying to show her that she was really the one he wanted to end up with in the morning.

She saw a bunch of lies in front of her eyes believing they were true, though deep inside she knew that herself was changing the real world to the way she wanted to see it. To the way she thought it was supposed to be. She knew she wasn't seeing things straight, but who was the one with power enough to say what was straight or what was crooked anyways? She made her own perfect, although not so perfect world; but she was tired of living in it. So, that was why she decided today she could give her perfect world the perfect ending.

She smiled at that thought and it encouraged her to unleash even more her beautiful voice on stage. The audience cheered and applauded as she hit the higher notes with accuracy and it flowed smoothly in the audience's ear. She turned her head to the bar giving the barman a wink and a signal. He picked up the message and quickly worked under the bar, finally emerging a few minutes later with a drink in his hand. He walked towards Shikamaru's table offering him the drink and whispering something in his ear before walking off.

Shikamaru looked at her, locking looks as he was questioning something and she smiled in response. He turned his head to the woman who was with him kissing her neck softly as the woman giggled and passed her hands over his trousers, finding the zipper and pulling it down, then caressing the bulge behind his underwear. He relaxed in his seat and turned his attention to the stage again with a nonchalant look in eyes. He loved to instigate her like that, because after the show, he knew she was going to be shattered a little bit more and cry all night long because of him. It felt good to have that kind of power, to crush people beneath him. It felt very good.

She watched with contentment his lips curving on the tip of the glass and his throat swallowing her sweet offer with eagerness for more. Her last song was coming to an end and the timing couldn't be more perfect than that.

She watched as he came in the hand of his companion, sweat trickling down his forehead, but a smirk on his lips always present. She wished she was the one caressing him, the one with his sweet release on her fingers, so she could lick it away and remember the long, almost forgotten, taste of his soul. But, no! She couldn't think of it now! Or she would ruin the perfect timing she had had a difficult time planning for.

She was getting to very end of the song and with the sight she was having, she couldn't be happier. It was all working like she had wished for, like she had planned for, finally it was all going accord with her will.

She watched as his face distorted into agony, fear, unbelief and through his widened eyes, he gave her another questioning look and again she smiled in response. He lowered his gaze to the floor, contorting in his seat as his hands flied to his throat and air failed to fill his lungs. He kicked his companion away from him when she tried to support him, standing up deranged with his arms moving without purpose, smacking things onto the floor.

The audience looked frightened at him as his end came slowly, the song that was filling his ears accompanying him. He looked at her once again; the stage now too bright for his eyes and she was all he could see as she approached him, hitting the long note that would mark the end of the song as also his. Not long after marking hers. Marking theirs. The perfect timing for a perfect ending of her dreamed awake perfect world.

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**A/N:** Yeah! One story down, more plots to go! Though you'll be unhappy that I thought of more plots if you disliked my writing xD which I hope not!


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